


Strangehenge Apocalypse

by Ribbons_Undone



Category: Stonehenge Apocalypse (2010), Supernatural
Genre: Episode Tag 15x19, Is it just me or is The Empty kinda dumb?, Jack is the new God, Jacob Glaser didn't actually die, Jacob pretending to be Castiel, Jacob's POV, Jake has a crush on Dean, M/M, Miracle the dog, Multiverse Theory, crossover AU, emf, soul connection - Freeform, twin-souls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:16:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28937631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribbons_Undone/pseuds/Ribbons_Undone
Summary: OKAY. Who pissed off Chuck?Right. That would be Sam and Dean.One of the worlds that Chuck goes to destroy is saved by one Dr. Jacob Glaser, who wakes up in the middle of an abandoned street, in an abandoned town in Lebanon, Kansas following an electromagnetic shock wave that threatens to turn Stonehenge into a world-wide Chernobyl. There he meets two hunters and…and God? Why does God look like Justin Beiber? WOW. And people back home thinkheis crazy? All this makes robot heads on the moon sound pretty innocuous.Still, it’s better than being dead.(Also, Dean is hiding something, and it’s Jacob’s job to uncover the truth!)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jacob Glaser/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Strangehenge Apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

> So if you haven't seen Stonehenge Apocalypse, I highly recommend watching it. Misha does an amazing job acting and bringing the character Jacob to life considering he's in handcuffs for most of the movie. XD The movie itself is pretty weak, but it's entertaining if you watch it with the premise that Chuck is out there Thanos-snapping his fingers. 
> 
> That being said, it's not imperative to have watched the movie in order to understand this fic. I've explained the important bits. 
> 
> This fic takes place during episode 15x19 of Supernatural after the battle with Chuck. 
> 
> A note on Jacob's EM reader-- YES it is an EMF reader. NO I don't call it that. Mainly because in the movie they specifically call it an EM reader, which I suspect was done to pull away from the fact that MISHA is using A GHOST DETECTOR in a non-supernatural movie and clearly someone hoped we'd miss this little parallel. (Newsflash, we didn't.)
> 
> Anyway, this was just something quick and fun that I wrote in my head at work and then put down on paper last night. I hope you all enjoy it! :D

* * *

_One._

Jacob Glaser awakens with a jolt and a gasping inhale of breath. His first thought is, _‘Am I dead?’_

He sits up and looks around himself. He’s in the middle of an empty street in what looks to be an average, mid-western, American town. Things look normal. The sun is shining in the sky and the clouds lazy past ambivalent to the rest of the world. The birds…well, Jacob doesn’t see any birds currently, but they must be around.

He rises to his feet and calls out.

“Hello?” He calls out, then glances around and mouths, _“What the…?”_

Where are all the people? Slowly, Jacob does a three-sixty survey of the street and town where he finds himself. Cars are abandoned, doors open. Some are still running. Shop signs in the window say _Open_ but he can’t see any shop attendants inside. In fact, there isn’t a soul around _period_. The people in this town are just _gone_.

 _'So…maybe I_ am _dead,'_ Jacob thinks to himself.

If that’s the case, then where the hell is he?

And why does his head hurt?

Also wasn’t he shot? Twice?

Jacob looks down at his chest and puts a hand over the place where he _remembers_ feeling the bullet go in.

Yup, he must be dead, because the bullet wound is no longer there.

Jacob does a quick head check just to be _sure_ no one is around to see him and then pinches himself. Hard.

“Ow!”

Okay…so maybe he isn’t dead. Unless it’s typical to feel pain in the afterlife.

“Hello?” he calls out again, “Is anyone there!?” His voice echoes through the empty town. It’s shrill and panicky in his ears, but there’s no one around to hear it.

He pulls out his cell phone and tries to get a signal but the phone just beeps at him. The little bar icon in the corner blinks at zero.

“Great,” Jacob sighs, stuffing it back in his pocket. His EM reader is in his other pocket and he pulls it out. It seems fine, though how both pieces of technology survived a nuclear bomb _and_ a massive electromagnetic shockwave is beyond him.

Actually, how _he_ survived is beyond him.

He clicks the device on, stowing the strange discrepancies of his current situation in lieu of doing something he _does_ understand. He turns in a slow circle with the meter out in front of him. He’s not sure why he’s taking a reading, but the empty street and the craziness of the past couple days tells him that it’s a good idea. Sure enough, he gets a weak blip to the East. He starts toward it.

Of course there is no guarantee that the blip even means anything, or that there’s anything even there. It could just be a power station for all he knows. He could be walking for nothing.

Something tells him otherwise. A feeling in his gut. So, he walks.

“Hello!?” Jacob cries out again. Still no answer. No people _to_ answer him, it would seem. Creepy.

Still no birds either. Or squirrels. Or bugs. In fact, the longer Jacob walks down the road, the greater the unease in his stomach grows. Something is not right here.

Feeling the familiar instinctual tug that every journalist seeking the truth knows to follow, Jacob reaches into his pocket and takes out his voice recorder. He switches it on and starts talking into the mic in a low rumble, even though there is no one around to hear him. He’s just got this spooked feeling that’s making his shoulder blades itch.

“This is Dr. Jacob Glaser reporting the truth…” Jacob stops momentarily and looks around him as it occurs to him he has no idea where he is and then picks up his dialogue again. “I seem to be in some sort of deserted town. There’s no one here. No animals and no bugs. Not even a fly.” The feeling in his stomach grows and he pauses, his concern growing. Then he takes a breath and pushes on.

“I woke up here just a few minutes ago following the events at Stonehenge. I’m pretty sure the device worked and that the electromagnetic pulse was dispersed in time however…I cannot verify that at the moment. The last thing I remember is a large column of light rising from the middle of the altar stone where I placed the mechanism and then…nothing.” He pauses, looks around him, and continues. “…but something tells me I’m not in Kansas anymore.”

Jacob clicks off the recorder for a minute and enters the corner store on the opposite side of the street. He heads straight to the newspaper rack and picks up the local paper. It only takes a few seconds to gather what he needs. He clicks the recorder back on.

“I stand corrected. Apparently I _am_ in Kansas. Lebanon, Kansas, to be exact, but how I got here…well, that’s a mystery, isn’t it? Though if I had to guess…if memory serves there is a minor lay line that connects Stonehenge to Kansas and…I suppose the electromagnetic blast from the device _could_ have displaced me in space and…” Jacob checks the date on the newspaper and blinks. “Okay. This says it’s September, 2020. That’s…wow. A whole decade. Either someone really knows how to play a prank or I’ve ended up in an episode of _The Twilight Zone_. Or…honestly, who the hell knows. As of two days ago there was no solid proof that my research was even _valid_. It was mostly theory.”

Jacob frowns and clicks off the recorder. Nothing of what he just said is useful, but the talking is keeping his head on straight—for the moment—and the panic at bay, which he can feel crawling steadily up his spine. He clicks the recorder back on.

“I’ve got a small electromagnetic current spiking to the East so I’m going to head in that direction and investigate.” He sighs heavily. “I just hope whatever I find can tell me what the hell happened. And doesn’t want to kill me.”

He clicks off the recorder again to save the battery, grabs a bottle of water and a granola bar, throws some cash on the counter and exits the store with the EM reader in front of him.

A dog barking echoes in the distance. Jacob starts toward it, noting he’s still headed toward the spike his EM reader is picking up, so either this dog is the thing giving off electromagnetic energy (hah) or more likely the dog was drawn to what-ever-it-is that is doing the emitting. Maybe. It’s a long shot, but then again, Jacob doesn’t see how checking it out can hurt his current situation. He’s got literally nothing else to go on.

Plus, dogs typically mean people, right? So maybe he’ll run into someone who can tell him what the hell is going on and how the fuck he ended up in _Oz_.

He rounds the corner and sees the first signs of life on Earth (other than him) since he woke up in this place. Two men stand in the middle of the street while the dog, a shaggy, long-haired mutt by the looks of it, barks to get their attention. The sight nearly makes Jacob wilt in relief.

“Oh thank God,” he says, hurrying toward them. He waves and calls out. “Hey! Can either of you tell me what’s going on here?”

The men’s heads snap towards him at the sound of his voice and then freeze like they’ve seen a ghost. The shorter, blond-haired one recovers first.

“Cas!?”

Jacob hears his breath escape in a _whoosh_ and then suddenly he is being smothered in a truly bone-breaking embrace.

“ _Jesus,_ Cas, you scared the living crap out of me!” the man hugging him says. His voice is thick with emotion. “Can’t tell you how good it is to see you, man.” The man pulls back and gives him the once-over, followed by a lopsided smile. “Nice duchebag pants. You tryin’ out a new look or something? How are you even back, anyway? You didn’t piss off The Empty again did you?”

The blond-haired stranger is clearly excited to see him and talks about a mile a minute. Jacob opens his mouth and blinks, looks to the other man he is with—who is freakishly _huge_ by the way—and then back to the blond man blankly.

“I’m—what’s wrong with my jeans?” Jacob asks, momentarily distracted as the man’s comment finally hits. It really shouldn’t matter to him given the circumstances, but…he’s a little insulted.

“Seriously? You look like you robbed the Backstreet Boys,” Blondie says.

“They’re _fashionable_ ,” Jacob insists with a huff.

“Whatever, JT.”

“Anyway,” Jacob says, shaking his head, “I’m not who you think I am, clearly. Who the hell _are_ you?” Jacob says, “And where is everyone?”

“Cas, you sayin’ you don’t remember who I am?” the blond man asks shakily.

“What is that? Some kind of name?” Jacob replies, squinting at him, “Look, I’m sorry, but clearly you’ve got the wrong guy. My name is _Jacob._ Dr. Jacob Glaser. I’m a scientist. Maybe you’ve heard of me?”

He looks between the two and their blank looks say everything.

“No? Aliens on the moon? Any of that ringing a bell?” Jacob says. Granted it was a robot head, but right now he’ll take aliens. Hell, he’ll take _anything_.

“You said your name is…Jacob?” the taller, Neanderthal-sized man echoes.

“Yes, now can someone _please_ tell me what is going on?”

The two are silent for a long beat. The dog whines and sits down by the blond man’s side. The man leans down to pet its head absentmindedly.

“So the name Castiel, that means nothing to you?” he asks.

Jacob draws in a deep breath. He’s getting irritated and he’s more than a little freaked out, and mistaken identity is _not_ something he gives a shit about at the moment.

“No. What kind of name is that anyway?”

The two men share a look and then the taller one asks, “What do you remember?”

Jacob huffs in irritation.

“I remember a nuclear bomb being dropped on my head and getting shot in the chest and saving the world from being terraformed by an electromagnetic shockwave originating from Stonehenge…and instead of getting disintegrated I somehow miraculously woke up here. I should be dead. How am I not dead?”

“Dude,” is the only thing Blondie says, “Seriously? You survived a nuke?”

“I survived a hell of a lot more than _that_ , if you’ve been paying attention,” Jacob snaps at him, “Where have you _been_ the last few days? The whole world is in crisis and everyone is _…_ I don’t know, suddenly _gone_? And—and you’re out here _walking your dog_ like it’s a normal Tuesday afternoon!?”

Okay, he’s starting to freak the fuck out. Jacob breaks off abruptly and gulps down a breath.

“Please,” he says weakly, “Tell me what is happening.”

The blond-haired man’s face goes rigid and his eyes narrow.

“Not until you can tell me why you’re wearing the face of my best friend,” he says.

Suddenly there’s a sound like laundry flapping on a clothesline and a young man appears before them. He’s young with blond hair, possibly young enough to still be in high school, but there’s an _otherworldliness_ about him that spells power and which makes the hair on the back of Jacob’s neck stand on end. The fact that he looks like a cross between Justin Beiber and a young Leonardo DiCaprio really doesn’t help.

“I believe I can help answer that,” the boy says.

“Jack? You did this?” Blondie blurts out.

“Hello, Dean,” Jack greets, turning to him. He looks to the other, “Sam.” He looks to Jacob. “Jacob.”

Jacob blinks. He’s sure they’ve never met.

“Um…hi,” he says uneasily.

“Jack,” the taller man—Sam interrupts, “You want to tell us what’s going on?”

The boy, Jack, nods. He looks at Jacob as he answers.

“Yes, certainly. This is Jacob. I pulled him from a lethal electromagnetic blast a millisecond before it disintegrated him,” he says. He meets Jacob’s eyes and adds, “I also took the liberty of healing you.”

“Oh,” Jacob says, “Um… thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” Jack replies succinctly, “Your world is fine, by the way. Well done. Of the seven hundred billion worlds Chuck created, yours was one of 28 to survive without divine intervention. So, thank you. It makes my job a lot easier.”

“Seven hundred _billion_?” Dean stutters.

“Wait, some of them _survived_?” Sam asks.

Jacob ignores both of them.

“Hang on—another _world_? I’m not on _my_ world? So…where the fuck am I exactly? Who the hell are you, the Wizard of Oz?”

“No,” Jack replies, “Though I am told he wasn’t a very nice person. I hope to be better than that. This isn’t Oz, either. You’re on Earth. _An_ earth. Number four-hundred sixty-seven billion, three hundred and fifty-two million—”

“Jack, I don’t think that’s helping,” Sam interrupts.

“Yes. Well. The important part is that you’re here now.” Jack smiles and gestures to the two men on either sides of him. “This is Sam and Dean Winchester. They’re hunters. I’ll let them explain what that is. You’re on an alternate world and it’s currently the year 2020.” The boy looks to the blond-haired man, Dean, and asks, “Is that more helpful?”

Dean lets out a long-suffering sigh and places a hand at his forehead. Something tells Jacob that he’s used to dealing with this sort of thing.

“You wanna maybe explain why you dropped a guy who’s the spitting image of _Cas_ from a different _Earth_ practically on our doorstep?” he asks.

“I have been searching for Castiel,” Jack says, his voice turning grave, “But I haven’t been able to find him. I did, however, find Jacob here. I heard a _ping_ and I felt something…familiar so I checked it out. It seems twin souls resonate on a similar wavelength and I picked up on yours.” He says this directly to Jacob, then continues speaking to the two brothers, his voice dropping. “It seems The Empty is out of my reach now that I am who I am. I believe Jacob may be able to succeed where I have failed.” Jack looks between the two Winchesters and smiles brightly. “I’m afraid I’ve got to fly. I’ve roughly seven hundred billion worlds to piece back together after all.”

“Hang on a—” Dean starts to say, but then there’s the flapping sound again and the boy just _disappears_ into thin air. “ _Sunofabitch!_ ” Dean swears, “Friggen angels! I mean— _nephilim_ or—JACK! _DAMNIT_ , I wasn’t finished with you yet!” This last part is shouted into the sky, and Jacob has to wonder about his mental sanity.

“You think what Jack said is true?” Sam asks his brother, “You really think this guy can help us get Cas back?”

“How the hell should I know?” Dean snaps back at him. He sighs, frustrated, and runs a hand through his hair. “Okay. Let’s just get not-Cas back to the bunker and go from there.”

They’re talking like Jacob doesn’t even exist, and it’s really starting to piss him off. Of course, he’s used to being ignored given his standing in the academic community, but _damnit_ , he just saved the world, didn’t he? He deserves some fucking _respect_.

“Hang on a minute. What bunker?” Jacob cuts in, holding out a hand, “Also—what’s with the disappearing act? And can someone please explain the whole multiple Earths thing to me?” Jacob takes a breath, feeling his carefully controlled panic rise up full force. “Just what in _fuck’s sake_ is going on!?”

“Yeah, he’s definitely _not_ Cas,” Sam says conclusively.

“Look, just get in the damn car and we’ll explain on the way,” Dean says.

“I am not going _anywhere_ with you until I get some goddamn _answers_ ,” Jacob throws back at him. He crosses his arms and gives the guy a steely look for good measure.

“Well first, maybe you wanna stop taking the Lord’s name in vain since he’s technically related and he _did_ just save your life,” Dean replies.

That throws him. Jacob lips wag but no words come out. He clears his throat and forces out, a little weakly, “You’re telling me… _that kid,_ that was… _God?_ ” He stares at the two blankly. “ _The_ God?”

Sam slaps him on the shoulder.

“Congratulations. You’re one of the lucky few to be in the know. Just be glad you didn’t meet the last guy.”

“Why? What did the last guy do?” Jacob blurts out.

“Well by the sound of things he tried to blow up your Earth,” Dean tells him, “Good work putting a stop to all that, by the way. I gotta say, I’m impressed.”

“No kidding,” Jacob says. His words sound miles away. “I mean, to be honest, so am I.”

There’s a heavy beat of silence in which Jacob does his best to keep his wits about him. There’s a rushing noise in his ears that’s getting louder by the second.

“Maybe we should head back and continue this on the way,” Sam suggests. He gives Jacob a pointed look. “No offense but you look like you’re about to faint.”

“Great, just what we need,” Dean mutters under his breath.

“I’m fine,” Jacob insists. He takes in another deep breath and wills his mind to stay focused. “It’s all fine. Just, I’m about to drive off with a couple lunatics on an alternate Earth who are apparently on a first-name basis with _God_?”

“Hey, you’re the lunatic from where I’m standing,” Dean says. He throws open the door to a classic ’67 Chevy and says, “Now get in the damn car before you pass out.”

Jacob does, but only because in the half-second of clarity that follows the man’s retort does it occur to him that it is highly unlikely for a kidnapper to drive a classic muscle car. That and getting into the car with a couple of strangers is the least of his problems at the moment. The dog jumps in after him and immediately takes up residence on Jacob's lap. He scratches at its ears absentmindedly and settles into the back seat. He frowns slightly at the lack of seat belts.

“So where’s this bunker?” Jacob asks once they're on the road. 

“Not far. Outside of town,” Dean replies. He drives with one hand on the wheel, the other rested on his leg. He seems tense. They both do, actually. Jacob lets out a breath and quietly clicks on his voice recorder in the privacy of his jacket pocket.

“Jack mentioned you were hunters?” he says, “What do you hunt exactly?”

“Monsters,” Sam replies this time. He turns his ginormous head back to peer at Jacob. “Ghosts, ghouls, vamps, werewolves, demons…the list goes on. We basically take out anything that goes bump in the night. Cas—our friend. He’s an angel.”

“And he’s…what, missing? Lost?”

“Dead,” Dean says bluntly. His face is stone cold as he says it. His jaw clenches as he adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. He’s holding on so hard his knuckles are white.

“But we think we know how to get him back,” Sam says, “Or at least, Jack seems to think we can. With your help.” He looks at Jacob with these sad, puppy-dog eyes and asks, “You are going to help us, right?”

Jacob looks over to Dean again, who is staring with eyes that are dead-set on the road ahead of him. He’s gone still as a statue but his hand is practically strangling the steering wheel. Jacob remembers the crushing force of his embrace and narrows his eyes. There is a lot here that these two aren’t telling him.

Still, he’s stuck in an alternate world with no means of getting home and about twenty dollars to his name—and that’s assuming this place takes the same kind of currency his world does. It occurs to him suddenly that he has absolutely no idea what the similarities and differences are between their worlds. The thought makes him light-headed so he steers away from it. Best to keep with what he knows.

“As long as you’re willing to help me get back to my world…if that’s even possible?” At Sam’s nod, Jacob relaxes by an inch—no, wait, make that a _mile_ —and continues. “Good. Well, hooray for silver linings. Sure, I’ll help. He’s important to you, right? This guy… Casey…?”

“Castiel. And yeah, dude’s family,” Dean says. He doesn’t offer any more than that, but the painful swallow that follows the admission is hard to miss.

“Uh huh. And he’s an _angel_? How does that work, exactly?” Jacob asks.

Sam explains it to him—something about human vessels and multidimensional wavelengths of celestial intent and…wow, people back home thought _he_ was crazy. All this sounds pretty innocuous to robot heads on the moon and the government performing illegal experiments with theta radiation…

It suddenly occurs to Jacob that he is unspeakably— _hilariously_ far from home.

Still, it’s better than being dead.

* * *

_Two_.

The _Bunker_ turns out to be some fancy secret underground fortress that looks like it was once owned by a militia of magical librarians.

This world sure is strange.

Jacob takes in everything, committing it all to memory. The empty whiskey bottles littered around the library draws his attention the most. Among them are piles of open books scattered across every surface—including the floor and chairs. Defeat and grief hang in the air so palpable he can almost taste it. Jacob glances to Dean quickly and notices the dark circles under the hunter’s eyes for the first time.

“So, uh, this is the library,” Sam says, concluding his tour, “And that’s about it. I imagine you’d like to wash up a bit. I’ll show you where the showers are and point you toward an empty room where you can stay for now…”

He keeps talking and Jacob follows along, but mostly he’s watching Dean from the corner of his eye. The older hunter—as Jacob has recently learned—has been quiet and morose the entire time his brother has conducted this little welcoming tour. What’s more, he keeps glancing at Jacob in these quick, furtive glimpses that are starting to make him nervous.

“Here we go,” Sam says, stopping in front of a door and gesturing, “The showers are down the hall to the left. Kitchen is back the other way to the right. Come find me when you’re done. I’m gonna work on getting some lunch together. Dean?”

Dean looks up with a, “Yea?” and pretends not to notice the concern on his brother’s face.

“You maybe wanna help with lunch?” Sam asks.

Dean frowns a little and rolls his shoulder back. He glances at Jacob, and this time it’s not furtive or flighty at all. This time he meets Jacob’s eyes straight on. Jacob sucks in his breath and holds it in his chest. _Good God_ the pain in those brilliant green eyes cuts deep.

Then, just as abruptly, Dean looks away.

“I’ll be in the library,” he says.

Jacob frowns at his back as he walks away.

“They were close, weren’t they?” he asks, looking to Sam.

Something crosses Sam’s face, but he isn’t sure what it is. Pity? Grief? Anger?

“Yeah,” the younger Winchester responds, “They are.” He sucks in a breath and forces a smile. “Right, well, I’ll leave you to it,” he says, and then turns down the hall.

“Right,” Jacob mutters to himself. He pushes the door to ‘his’ room open and finds it to be pretty ordinary. No big differences in bedrooms in this alternate world, it seems. There’s a bed, a dresser, a desk…and not much else besides that. There’s a robe hanging in the closet and a pair of slippers and a couple towels placed on the bed. Almost like a hotel. Jacob grabs the towels and shuffles down the hall to the showers. There’s a stall labeled, ‘ _Guests_ ’ that he uses with little miniature shampoo and soap bottles. _Exactly_ like a hotel.

“Super weird,” Jacob mutters as he’s turning on the spray.

He finds Sam in the kitchen once he’s cleaned up with a sandwich waiting for him and digs in whole-heartedly. He’s suddenly ravenous, and the ham and cheese monster that Sam has put together is heaven...which is supposedly a real place, according to the Winchesters. And well, _God_.

Jacob is finding it a little hard to wrap his head around that last bit. Mainly because _God_ looks young enough to be his _son_ and it’s more than a little off-putting.

And then he thinks, _Shit! Can God read my mind?_

He gets up abruptly from his stool bringing the plate with him.

“Um… I’m going to go help Dean in the library,” he tells Sam with his mouth still stuffed with white sandwich bread. He points vaguely over his shoulder to the door and then promptly scurries in that direction without bothering to wait for Sam’s reply.

He’s not really sure why it’s Dean he wishes to seek out so suddenly, actually. He tells himself it’s because helping Dean research a way to get his pal back from ‘ _The Empty’_ ( _whatever_ the fuck that is) will get him home the quickest, but he knows deep down that this isn’t the case. He _is_ a reporter of the truth, or so he claims, so he may as well come clean.

So if he’s being truthful, the older hunter intrigues him. Dean’s relationship to his twin-soul, doppelganger, _Angel_ _of God_ alter ego intrigues him. The way that Dean had looked at him, like it _hurt_ that he resembled his dead friend—it shook him is what it did. And his journalist’s nose sniffed the air and went… _“Hmm…”_

So really Jacob is going to find Dean because he’s nosy and intrusive and he has this OCD thing about the truth, and Dean ain’t spillin’ it. He’s horking up something that’s maybe a _sliver_ of truth with a whole load of BULLSHIT on top. Jacob’s the guy who knows how to tunnel in to the good stuff.

Okay, so it’s not a great analogy but you get the picture. It’s not a pretty picture, but it’s necessary in his line of work. He’s used to getting shit on.

At least with Sam and Dean he’s not immediately labeled as _crazy_. That’s a pretty novel experience. He definitely likes not being ‘that crazy guy in the room’ anymore. Though…now he’s the ‘weird alternate world guy’ and…he’s not sure it’s much of an improvement but it’s something.

Hey, he’ll take what he can get.

He finds Dean in the library propped up in a chair by a bottle of whiskey, reading a book. Jacob’s not sure how effective that is with your eyes closed.

“Dean?” he says, tapping the man on the shoulder.

Dean snuffs awake with a “Wha—? Who?” then blinks at Jacob and gets this terribly sad look in his eyes and says, “ _Cas?_ ” with such longing that it’s—it’s fucking heartbreaking is what it is.

“Sorry, no,” Jacob says, setting his sandwich down on the table and clearing off the chair opposite Dean so he can sit down. “I thought I could help. What am I looking for?”

Dean heaves a sigh and leans back in his chair. The way he pinches the bridge of his nose as he answers has Jacob wondering when it was the last time he’d slept.

“Anything about opening portals, anything mentioning The Empty, or the place angels and demons go where they die, or about angel and demon death in general and…uh...y’know. That kind of stuff.”

“You should widen your search to include twin-souls, or soul connection, or any mention of multiverses and doppelgangers,” Jacob says. Dean looks at him blankly so he hunches forward and gives him _a look_. “That _is_ what Jack— _God_ —said, isn’t it? That there is some connection between me and this angel of yours? That it may be possible to find him if we can learn how to tap into it? That _is_ what he meant, right?”

“Uh…” Dean blinks at him, looking stunned. “Yeah. That’s—wow. That’s a hell of a theory. How did you—and you’re a _scientist_?” he finishes in disbelief.

“Astrophysicist,” Jacob supplies, “Not to brag but many considered me a prodigy.”

Dean raises an eyebrow at his use of the past tense.

“ _Considered_?” he says.

“My work tends to supersede the ability most have to understand it,” he replies coolly. He touches the bare spot over his sternum where his Prelovich Award ring used to rest and misses its comforting weight with an ache that feels a lot like homesickness. He clears his throat. “Anyway, it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together,” he finishes.

“Uh huh,” Dean says, sounding unconvinced. He sucks in a breath. “Well, tell ya what. I’ll leave the metaphysics and multiverse search up to you and I’ll cover us on how to open a door into The Empty. Sound good?”

“Exceptional,” Jacob says back.

And…okay. Truth be told, maybe he’s flirting. He’s entitled right? After just saving the world?

And maybe…who knows? With the boyish grin that Dean flashes him, maybe the hunter likes it.

Some hours into researching (and a few more ham and cheese sandwiches and an entire pot of coffee, care of Sam), Jacob’s eyeballs have the consistency of sandpaper and feel like they’re about to fall out of his head. Dean’s down near his second bottle of whiskey and keeps nodding off in the corner. Sam just went to brew up more java.

“SO,” Jacob says loudly.

Dean snorts and jerks awake with an “’M here,” that brings a smirk to his face.

Jacob gives Dean a minute to regain his bearings before he asks, “You and this angel of yours. You guys were pretty close, huh?”

Dean makes for the whiskey bottle instead of answering him but Jacob pulls it out of his reach. Dean glares at him briefly and then sighs, slouching back in his chair with an air of defeat.

“Yeah, we were close,” he says.

The silence stretches until Jacob breaks it with, “I’m sorry.” He watches as Dean’s eyes flit to him, sees the same sharp anguish in them—this time wet with tears. Dean runs a thumb over his eye and wipes away the moisture.

“Were you two…” Jacob pauses and wonders if he’s reading the situation right before continuing. “Together?”

Dean at first looks panicked, then immediately grief-stricken. He shakes his head.

“No,” he coughs out in a rasp, “But I… He…”

He can’t seem to continue so Jacob is left filling in the blanks.

“You loved him,” he says first. Dean nods. “And he loved you back?” Another nod. Hmm, puzzling. Mutual love isn’t usually an issue. Unless… “Did he know?”

Dean looks down with a mirthless laugh and Jacob sees a couple tears drop from his eyes and into his lap. Dean shakes his head.

“No. No, I don’t think he knew,” he says. His lips tremble. “And he…he died before I c-cou— _aheh—_ before I could tell him.”

Jacob says nothing for a moment, just lets that admission sink in. Dean gives a manly sniff (well, it’s a strong attempt anyway) and looks away, swiping at his eyes again. Jacob reaches out and covers the hand he has resting on the table, gives it a firm squeeze and looks into emerald-green eyes.

“We are going to get him back,” he promises.

Dean’s eyes go wide, but then he gets a determined look on his face and nods.

“Yeah, okay. Good,” the hunter says, jolting back to himself, “Where the hell is Sammy with that coffee, anyway?” He shoots to his feet and storms out of the library shouting, “Sammy!”

Jacob drags the bottle of whiskey over and smiles to himself in secret. Then he lifts his eyes to the skies and toasts Jack up in heaven before raising it to his lips.

* * *

_Three_.

It takes the better part of a week to finally find what they’re looking for—an obscure spell that will open a portal into The Empty. This, paired with a summoning spell for Castiel that _should_ awaken the angel from The Empty and bring him to them is THE PLAN. Jacob’s role in this PLAN is to distract The Empty long enough for Dean to do the spell and grab Cas.

The way they’re doing this is by dressing Jacob up to look like Castiel.

Dean’s been teaching him all week how to impersonate the guy, and the more he learns about this _Angel of Thursday_ , the more he can see why Dean’s so in love with him. And why that love is mutual.

If he’s being honest, he’s got a little bit of a crush on the hunter himself now.

Tomorrow’s the big day, so it’s either make a move now or forever hold his breath.

Jacob finds the hunter in his room studying the spell they’re using in the morning. He leans against the door frame.

“You’re going to burn a hole in the papyrus, staring at it like that,” he says lightly, flirting. He’s been doing that a lot lately. Dean looks up, embarrassed, and shoves the scroll away.

“I’m just makin’ sure we didn’t miss anything,” he grumbles defensively, dropping his gaze. Jacob takes a couple steps into the room and looks on with an air of condescension that’s meant to peak the hunter’s ire. It works. Dean looks up and narrows his eyes. “ _What_?”

“Nothing, I just think there are better things you could be doing on a night like this one,” Jacob says.

“And what kind of night is that?” Dean asks him slowly.

Jacob shrugs.

“You know,” he says, “The kind where we could both be dead tomorrow.”

Dean blinks at him, then barks out in laughter.

“Wait—hang on. _You’re_ giving _me_ the ‘Last Night On Earth’ speech? Seriously?” Dean lets out a deep laugh.

“Is it working?” Jacob asks him, dropping his voice.

Dean shoves to his feet and takes two steps right up to Jacob. He reaches behind him to close the door, and his face is but inches from Jacob’s.

“Well?” Dean taunts, “Don’t tell me you’re all talk.”

That does it. Jacob pulls him down by the back of the neck and crushes his mouth to Dean’s.

As far as ‘Last Nights’ go, it’s not too shabby.

* * *

Seeing magic done for the first time is something else, Jacob decides. He watches as Sam adds the right ingredients to a special offering bowl and then says something in Enochian—which Jacob now knows is the language of the angels—before throwing a lit match into the bowl. The bowl’s contents ignite and release a black, charcoal-like cloud that quickly doubles and then triples in size, taking the shape of a shadowy portal.

Dean’s hand grips his shoulder. In the hunter’s other hand is a small duffel bag carrying what he needs to work the summoning spell and an angel blade. Jacob has his own blade hidden up the sleeve of his fake-Castiel coat.

“Just like we talked,” the hunter says. Jacob nods, and they step forward.

A feeling like cool mist washes over Jacob. Blackness—nothingness—surrounds him. His shoes stick slightly to the surface where he walks, filmy goo which sticks to the underside of his soles as he picks up his feet. The residue increases the further in they go, until they are wading through it halfway up to their knees and struggling for every step.

“We’re sitting ducks here,” Jacob says in a deep rumble, putting on his pretend-Castiel voice. “Dean, do the spell.”

“Right,” Dean ‘kneels’ down in the black and pulls out everything he needs for the spell. The hunter places the angel blade by his side, within reach.

Jacob slips his own blade down into his hand as practiced and steps in front of Dean to hide him from view, then takes a deep breath in anticipation of what he’s about to do.

“Well!?” he screams into The Empty, “Where are you, you bastard!? You thought you could trap me forever in here!? I told you I would get out!” Well, perhaps not, but it’s a gamble Jacob’s willing to take. “Don’t you have anything to say to _that_?” he calls out, “Or are you afraid that I will destroy you for good this time?”

He bites out the last bit in a growling sneer, and for the first time in his life thinks that those voice and acting lessons he took in college could possibly save his life here.

 _Something_ emerges from the black. It rises up out of the dark like a slug and hisses at him.

 _“Cassstiel!_ Why are you awake? How are you free?” The Empty pushes right up into Jacob’s face. He’s scared shitless but he refuses to blink. Fear is only going to get them killed. “I buried you,” The Empty spits at him.

“Not deep enough, clearly,” Jacob replies.

There’s a flash of orange behind him as Dean lights the summoning bowl and for a moment The Empty is illuminated. A curling mass of faceless sludge peers at him through sunken, eyeless sockets. Jacob gulps but stands his ground. Behind him, he can hear Dean praying fervently.

“ _Castiel, come on_ , _damnit,_ _answer me_!” the hunter growls under his breath. He’s finished the spell. Nothing happens. Jacob glances back at him and catches the stricken look in his eyes. Dean has no idea what to do next.

The Empty, now noticing Dean, starts to laugh, a deep, terrible rumble that sends chills up Jacob’s spine.

“What exactly did you think you would accomplish here today?” it asks, “You’ll never escape from me, not while I hold you here.” The thing still doesn’t seem to have figured out exactly what they are doing, so maybe Jacob can use that to his advantage.

Jacob turns back to The Empty. Oh well, he thinks, you face down one apocalypse and survive and suddenly death seems a little overrated. He’s either disillusioned to its permanency or he’s got survivor’s guilt. Or he just can’t stand the look on Dean’s face.

Fuck him, it’s definitely door number three.

“I woke up, didn’t I?” Jacob tells The Empty, “What makes you think I can’t escape out of here too?”

“Impossible!” It hisses back, “I don’t know who or what you are, but you cannot be Castiel! You cannot be awake. I would feel it!”

“Hmph, if you say so. Perhaps you should check just to be sure.”

The Empty growls and goes quiet. It seems to be concentrating. A patch of black goo gurgles in the space on the ‘ground’ next to the being’s ‘feet’. The goo bubbles up in the shape of a man, roughly his height, if Jacob had to guess. The goo continues to gurgle and fold back on itself to reveal a face that’s undeniably his own. Damn. It’s like looking in a mirror.

“What!? How are there two of you?” The Empty shrieks. It turns its gaze on Dean, who now moves beyond where Jacob was mostly blocking him from view to slap at Castiel’s cheeks.

“Cas? _Cas!_ Come on, buddy, wake up!” Dean says.

“Perhaps you should try true love’s kiss,” Jacob suggests dryly.

The Empty surges forward but Jacob blocks its advance by raising his angel blade. He takes something palm-sized and rectangular from his pocket—his EM reader, though he’s turned it into something else. Something of his own design, pieced together over the course of his week at The Bunker. A surprise for The Empty based on something Dean once told him.

“Uh uh. No interrupting the rescue mission. Sorry,” he says, and turns the device on.

The Empty immediately screams in pain and covers its ‘hands’ over its ‘ears’.

“What is that? Make it _stop_!!”The Empty howls at him, “Who _are_ you!?” It shrieks in agony. “ _What_ are you? You—” It sniffs the air. “You’re human!? _How_?”

Jacob shrugs. “I’m a smart cookie. This device is transmitting an incredibly high frequency, high decibel pulse wave. Extremely nasty thing. I imagine it feels a lot like someone is scratching at a million chalk boards inside of your head.”

“MAKE IT STOP!!!” The Empty wails at him.

“Let us go,” Jacob growls at it, “ _All_ of us. Castiel included.”

There’s another long, loud howl, and then a flash of white light.

The three of them tumble through the portal in the Library and out onto the floor in a heap. Sam, who had been pacing incessantly since they left now stops and rushes forward to see that they are all right.

“Dean! Cas!? Jake? You guys okay?” Sam asks, clearly concerned.

“I think so,” Jacob grunts, shoving to his hands and knees. Beside him, Dean is just now rousing the angel Castiel. He blinks open deep blue—deeper than _his_ eyes by _oceans_ , _damn_ —and clears his throat.

“Dean?” Castiel croaks out.

“Heya, Cas,” Dean says fondly, and kisses him.

“Right,” Jacob grumbles, climbing to his feet with Sam’s help, “Now then. Where’s _my_ happy ending?”

Sam shoots him a sympathetic look—Jacob thinks he knows how fond he’s grown of his brother over the past week—and they leave the two newly-reunited lovers to their happily-ever-after. And yeah, he’s a little jealous, but mostly he’s happy for them.

Jacob really just wants to go home.

* * *

_Four._

When Dean and his angel have had a generous amount of time for their teary reunion, Jacob insists that they call Jack to bring him home. Jack flaps into the room at the call of his name and—it’s scary but Jacob is actually getting used to that.

“Well guys, I wish I could stay but…let’s be honest, it’d be weird if there were two of us on this world.” Jacob winks at Dean and turns to Castiel with a grin on his face, “You’re a lucky guy, Castiel.”

Dean, who has a possessive arm slung around Cas’s shoulder blushes a little and grins back at him.

“Hey man, you never know. There could be an Alter!Me out there who’s a mechanic or some duchy cleanse-guzzling pencil pusher. Or I dunno, a cowboy. Infinite possibilities, infinite worlds, right? His name could be something else even. Could be Smith or…or Michael. Or Henry Winchester the II. Ugh. Shit, I hope there’s not a caveat-wearing, Men of Letters duchy version of me running around somewhere.”

Jacob laughs at that.

“I’ll keep looking until I find him,” Jacob promises. He turns to Cas again and holds out his hand. “Well, Castiel, it has been an honor. Truly.”

Castiel shakes his hand and grins fondly.

“Thank you for looking after Dean for me,” he says. Dean’s face behind him seizes up a little and Jacob bites back a laugh as Castiel continues. “You can always pray to me, you know,” he says, “It is a one-way radio, but I _am_ able to hear you. Jack too.”

“Call if you need anything,” Dean cuts in, “I’m granting you Honorary Winchester Family status. You call, we come. No questions asked.”

“Thank you,” Jacob tells him, “But I’m sure it will be unnecessary. Take care of each other. Goodbye, all of you.”

“Bye Jake,” Sam says, and Jacob suddenly realizes he’s going to miss the younger Winchester almost as much as the elder. Sam and him were becoming fast friends—both of them are scientists and intellectuals at heart and Jacob doesn’t have nearly as many friends in that camp as he should like. He wishes he got to get to know the angel Castiel better too, but he supposes it’s for the best.

With one final wave from Jacob, Jack snaps his fingers.

* * *

Jacob returns precisely to the spot where he ‘died’ almost a week ago. He sits up, noting that Stonehenge is miraculously still there, and runs his eyes over the radiation-blackened earth that is tinted purple with primordial bacteria. He wonders what new organisms will grow here now that the apocalypse has been averted and pushes to his feet.

The walk out of Salisbury Plain is long, but it’s a surprisingly nice day and hey, he’s alive, so Jacob’s not really worried about it. He’s a little sad to have left behind such good friends, but he’s robot-heads-over-the-moon excited to be back home.

_Home_.

The first person he talks to is an emergency response soldier guarding the front door of the local middle-school-turned-military base. He’s ushered in to see the General in charge where he is immediately asked what happened.

Jacob blinks at the guy and realizes in a sudden burst of mental clarity that for once in his life, he _can’t_ tell the truth.

“Would you believe aliens?” he asks the General.

The General pins him with a pale look that will forever be ingrained in Jacob’s memory.

“Son, at this point, I’ll believe just about anything.”

“Good,” Jacob says, swallowing a smirk, “It was aliens.”

_The End?_

**Author's Note:**

> Epilogue: Jacob runs into Dean Smith, the owner of a small, gourmet coffee-roasting business and they live happily ever after. 
> 
> Check out some of my other Supernatural crossovers if you're interested! 
> 
> [ _The Curious Case of Agatha Wilson_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24573073) (A Supernatural/Numb3rs crossover. Gen.)
> 
> [ _An Eight, A Ten, And A Twelve Walk Into A Bar_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25640047) (Supernatural/Queer As Folk xover. Rated M. Sequels Rated E.)
> 
> [ _Double Up!_](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751980) (A Supernatural/Danny Phantom mini-series. Rated T.)
> 
> Also keep an eye out for my SPN/Fullmetal Alchemist crossover _Circle Me Home_ which...will be along shortly, or as soon as I figure out the kinks in the plot. :/
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed this and had fun with it! I hope it brightened your day and made you laugh! And I hope it inspired at least a couple of you to watch Mish's movie bc he deserves ALL THE CREDIT for how good it is. (let's be real, he's the ONLY good part of that movie). 
> 
> That's it from me! Please leave kudos and as always, comment to let me know what you think! I can also be found on the Profound Bond Server as Ribbons_Undone (DM me! I'm always up for a chat!), as well as on [ TUMBLR](https://ribbons-undone.tumblr.com/)


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